Until November(8)

By: Aurora Rose Reynolds

With only the light from the street lamp above us, I can’t tell his exact eye color but they look blue or light gray. His lips have a perfect cupid’s bow at the top and bottom. They’re so full, they would make my mom, the queen of lip injections, jealous.

Taking in his face, I’m completely caught off guard by the anger I see in his eyes. He is about three times my size. His arms are so large he could squash me like a bug. I can make out the definition of almost every muscle in his torso. His body is as impressive as his face and the thermal shirt he’s wearing does nothing to hide it from me…or anyone with eyes. His legs are planted shoulder-length apart. His jeans hang low on his hips and with the way he stands, I don't even think a tornado could move him. He crosses his arms over his chest while looking down at me.

I take a step back towards my car and remind myself that I need to breathe. I adjust my keys in the palm of my hand so they become a weapon. He doesn’t miss this move, judging by the flash of surprise I see cross his face.

“Hi,” I squeak out.

"Yeah, hi,” he says back in a mocking tone that catches me off guard. “You need to have an escort to your car anytime you leave the club.” He’s practically growling at me.

“Wh… Wha. What?” I ask, stuttering.

“You,” he says slowly, like I'm stupid, “need an escort anytime you leave from inside the club to your car. All the girls know this shit."

“Um…okay?” I say, still not understanding.

"It’s my boy’s job to make sure your ass is safe from the building to your car. So don’t piss me off by not doing what you’re told. And trust me, sweetheart, I don’t give a fuck if you’re fucking Big Mike. Next time, wait for one of the guys to walk you out here.”

“Who’s Big Mike?” I ask. I’ve only been in town a short while. How can rumors of me and some guy already be going around?

"Big Mike, the guy you were hanging on and calling ’Daddy!’” he says with distaste. “I don't give a fuck if you’re sleeping with the boss. He should have told you this shit himself or had the decency to walk your ass out here to your car."

Oh my God! Ewwww… Now I get it. He thinks I'm sleeping with my dad. Gross! And he's being totally rude.

“Excuse me?” I ask, narrowing my eyes, hoping that he gets the message that he should choose his next words wisely.

"What part don't you understand, sweetheart?” he says, mocking me. I'm sure at this point, my eyes are bugging out of my head and steam is coming out of my ears.

I jerk my hand out angrily in his direction. “I'm not ‘sweetheart,’ I’m November. I'm also Big Mi—”

"Don't give a fuck who you are.” He cuts me off.

“Wow, you are so flipping rude, buddy.”

"Don't care that you think that shit either."

“Who the hell do you think you are?” I ask him, hands on my hips, my voice bringing my New York attitude out in full force.

"The guy that’s waiting for you to get in your car and leave so I can go do my job instead of standing out here with you.”

“Uggggg, you are such a jerk.” I growl, feeling like I should kick him.

"November?” I hear my dad call me. I smile on the inside. This is going to be good.

“Yeah, Daddy, over here,” I yell back, exaggerating the daddy part. I look at the guy in front of me, daring him with my eyes to say something. He doesn’t, but his eyes narrow.

My dad walks towards us then sees big jerk face standing across from me. He pats him on the back while smiling. "Hey, Asher,” my dad says.

Oh my God, seriously? Asher. Why did this guy have to have a hot guy name? Why couldn’t his name be Urkel or Poindexter. I mean really, something’s just were not fair.

“I see you already met my daughter." I can't help the small giggle that climbs up my throat from the look of pure shock on the big jerk’s face. Okay, it’s safe to say that his look made me feel somewhat better. My dad looks down at me, smiling, not understanding what has gone on for the last few minutes.

“Um, yeah, Dad. He was just telling me that I need an escort when leaving the club,” I say through my laugh.

"Oh," my dad says, scratching his head. “Yeah, I didn't think about it because you’re not… Ugh, you don’t work here… I mean, you work here but not really in here.”

“Dad, it’s okay. Asher didn’t know and just wanted to make sure I was safe.”

"Yeah, okay,” he says, looking a little sheepish. “Anyways, Asher, this is my baby girl, November,” he says, pulling me into his side. “She just moved here.”